London Coliseum, Monday 26 November 2018

Jonathan Miller’s production of La Boheme has always impressed for the vitality of its staging and the simplicity of its story telling. When this is combined with young singers who are totally convincing in their roles it can’t fail to please.

This may be its fourth revival – to say nothing of an ill-fated alternative which was thankfully short-lived – but it comes up as fresh and emotionally truthful as ever. Much of this certainly is down to the casting.

Jonathan Tetelman’s Rodolfo sang heroically throughout, the top firm and rounded, and the voice seemed to blossom as the evening progressed. Added to this, his acting was emotionally convincing at all times, the subtlety of his gestures particularly telling. Let us hope we see him again soon. Natalya Romaniw may be better known to us but was none the less welcome. Her near immobility in the final act was devastating as she literally faded away before our eyes. Earlier she had been more in control of the situation that is often the case, leading Rodolfo out in Act Three where he had almost lost the plot. It was very touching.

Nadine Benjamin’s Musetta uses all her sensuality to promote herself and yet proves to be equally sensitive in the final act. She is strongly partnered by Nicholas Lester’s intelligent Marcello.

Alexander Joel was making his debut in the pit and took the whole evening at a fast pace though it never, ever, seemed rushed. The orchestra responded with enthusiasm and the chorus, as ever, was magnificent in the finely staged second act. Here everything buzzes on stage without ever upstaging the soloists – the sign of an exceptional understanding of stage-craft.

I am sure this is not the last time we will see this splendid production.

Tonbridge School Chapel, Saturday 24 November 2018

Commemorating the centenary of the First World War has given rise to a wide range of events, but Britten’s War Requiem has been foremost amongst them. Tonbridge Philharmonic, under Matthew Willis, drew on strong forces to bring us a moving and at times challenging reading of the work within the often difficult acoustic of Tonbridge School Chapel. The layout is not conducive to concerts as the audience is essentially facing itself rather than the performers and the sound tends to remain at the east end. Only in the magnificent outpouring of the brass at its most triumphant or the hushed singing of the girls’ choir in the west balcony did the whole space really come alive.

Britten’s demands are difficult for any group to bring fully to fruition today. We had the benefit of the distant girls’ choir and the movement of the solo singers, but there was no real differentiation between the full and chamber orchestras, nor the second conductor as Britten required.

Many key moments flowered impressively. The Kyrie was precise and accurate, the Sanctus built to a thrilling climax and the Lacrimosa blossomed beautifully. The three young soloists were able to ride the large orchestra though their diction was often lost within the acoustic. The best moments came in the more reflective sections. Tenor Bradley Smith was movingly effective in Move him into the sun and bass-baritone Tristan Hambleton sympathetic in the final pages. Soprano Sofia Troncoso has the more difficult task as Britten needs a remarkably large voice to ride the emotional intensity of the orchestration. She seemed to grow in strength as the work progressed, producing ever more beautiful tone.

The choral forces produced strong tonal colour and some incisive rhythms but as with the soloists the text tended to get lost as soon as the volume increased. The girls’ choir in the gallery had the better deal as they were not required to fight with larger forces and impressed throughout.

The evening opened with an introductory talk from Barry Holden and a reading of a few of Wilfred Owen’s poems. We also had strict instructions not to applaud at any point. Given the venue this seemed to be attempting to turn the event into something more than a concert. This would not be a problem if clearly indicated beforehand but might have confused some of the audience. When Britten’s instructions on the way to perform the work are ignored, it is unclear why picking this one demand should be so crucial. Thanking the performers is normally a natural reaction not an expectation and it seemed strange not to be allowed to thank those involved.

Mayflower Theatre, Southampton, Wednesday 21 November 2018

Tanya McCallin’s sepulchral design is a fitting visual complement to David McVicar’s often stark and unromantic approach to a work which can too easily be sentimentalised. We are aware of death from the start and never allowed to forget the inevitable outcome of events. When this is added to an early nineteenth century moral straight-jacket there can be little hope for any of the protagonists. No matter how sorry they may feel for past action there is no way they can escape and it seems that even faith in the mercy of God is no match for the failure of society to forgive. As such it is one of the finest approaches to La Traviata I can recall, and this WNO revival is remarkably strongly cast in all areas.

The chorus are as strong as one could ask for, and carefully individualised in the two party scenes. Smaller parts, particularly James Cleverton’s Baron and Rebecca Afonwy-Jones’ Flora, are incisively characterised to create a naturalistic, if at times over indulgent, world within which events unfold.

Kang Wang’s Alfredo is very much the outsider here. His baritonal warmth, with no difficulty in the higher register, creates a deeply human if naïve young man. The fact that his costume never quite seems to fit was telling – he is growing in to his adulthood and making mistakes along the way. The fact that these mistakes become literally fatal is what turns the narrative into real tragedy. Roland Wood is finely sensitive as Giorgio Germont.  His changes of attitude are convincingly naturalistic and his relationship with Violetta is marked by his body-language as well as his voice.

Anush Hovhannisyan is magnificent as Violetta. Not a cough in sight but a body wracked with pain and a gradual, if inevitable, sense of collapse. The final act is deeply moving in her intense vulnerability, never able to do more than crawl and yet fighting all the time to live.

James Southall’s conducting allows the larger than life melodies to flow unhindered but concentrates on the moments of intimacy for internal detail.

This is a production that deserves to be revived frequently and hopefully seen more widely.

London Coliseum, Friday 16 November 2018

The ability to stage oratorio convincingly has come on in leaps and bounds over recent years and Daniel Kramer has produced his finest work to date with this timely presentation of Britten’s War Requiem.  Rather than create a distinct narrative, the scenes flow with the inevitability of the structure of the mass itself. We are moved as much, if not more, by those who survive than those who have died. The jokey approach to Out there reflects the reality that death is not the problem for a solider but surviving maimed and essentially inhuman. Equally powerfully, the women at home, waiting, the traumatised children are all victims of the insistence on violence. Britten’s masterly combination of the Latin text with Wilfred Owen’s poems here seems even more apt, bringing the personal into direct contact with the universal.

For this the large chorus – drawn from the regular ENO singers and the special chorus for Porgy and Bess- is stunningly effective, not only in its attack and edge in the larger scenes but their physical presence on stage either as dying, sleeping or escaping masses caught-up in conflict.

The two male soloists help us here to identify and pinpoint the individual suffering of those in war. Tenor David Butt Philip and baritone Roderick Williams could hardly be bettered, not only in the sensitivity of their singing but in the shifts in characterisation as the evening progresses. Setting So Abram rose with a group of children was a masterstroke, moving from a fire-side story to the calamitous reality of mass killing.

Daniel Kramer’s approach to the soprano part was more complex. Emma Bell brings enormous strength to the part and becomes something of an earth mother as Britten keeps her within the Latin setting, so that she can only empathise with events at second hand. This becomes a strength as her presence often seems to comment on events rather than engage in them. At the end she is left alone on stage in the snow by a grave with two boys – all the rest are gone.

Wolfgang Tillmans’ designs are always telling and frequently add an extra layer to the sub-text rather than simply providing a background. The sudden snow storm is a brilliant coup and the sense of winter and death remains until the end. It is these final scenes which are the most moving. The early use of WWI photographs and the references to Srebrenica though apt seemed to distance us from the emotional engagement of the final scenes.

Martyn Brabbins holds all his forces together with consummate skill and frequently shattering effect.

The only thing that is lost in a staging like this is the musical disparity Britten deliberately creates. We are not really aware of the chamber orchestra – though it is more evident in the theatre how quiet many scenes are – and the children are very obviously present rather than the ethereal voices envisaged. But this is a tiny issue and far, far out-weighed by the success and impact of this staging.